


Howl

by GreyMichaela



Series: One-Shots [9]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-29
Updated: 2014-07-29
Packaged: 2018-02-10 23:13:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2043852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyMichaela/pseuds/GreyMichaela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel went to Purgatory when Lucifer killed him.  There he stayed, with no reason to leave, until a soul lit up the world with a blazing purity and called to him like a beacon.  <i>He knew that soul.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Howl

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Wingstar102](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wingstar102/gifts).



> Inspired by Florence and the Machine's lovely song Howl. In particular, the line: 
> 
>  
> 
> _I hunt for you with bloodied feet across the hallow'd ground_
> 
>  
> 
> I wanted to show the fierce, terrifying archangel Gabriel in all his glory, purified by Purgatory's smelting process, his humanity stripped away.
> 
> In the process of brainstorming this story with my friend, I also came across this song by 30 Seconds to Mars. 
> 
>  
> 
> _I am alive, I'm just playing dead._  
>  _I'm gonna say what should have never been said._  
>  _The giants of the world are crashing down._  
>  _The end is near, I hear the trumpets sound._
> 
>  
> 
> ...yeah.

Gabriel knew the instant something changed.  Ducking the vampire’s wild swing, he beheaded it without looking, his entire being turning toward the beacon that blazed up out of the trees a hundred miles – or feet; distance was relative in Purgatory – away.

Gabriel flipped his sword and plunged it into the belly of the vampire rushing him from behind.  It gurgled and fell, sliding off his blade, and Gabriel spread his wings, stepping through dimensions with the flicker of a thought.

But when he got there, a rocky outcropping in a crude semi-circle offering some shelter from the elements and bounded by trees on the other sides, it was empty and open, no evidence of anyone having been there.  A small cave opening yawned at the base of the rocks, but it was empty too.

Gabriel sheathed his sword and prowled the edge of the open area. He could still sense… _it._   There was no trail, no spoor to follow.  But if it had been here, perhaps it would come back.  Gabriel could wait.

He cloaked himself in shadow, hiding himself from all senses, and settled in to wait, silent as the night that was creeping up around him.

Time was as relative as distance in this place, and Gabriel waited hours or days, he neither knew nor cared.  He didn’t need to sleep, or eat.  He was a weapon, an arrow nocked to the bow, waiting to fly to its target.

He sensed the leviathan that skulked around the edges of the clearing, sniffing after the same thing that had drawn him here, but he didn’t move. He would deal with them as it became necessary.

It was a little after the sun had risen, pale and weak over the trees, when two humans stumbled out of the small cave into the clearing where Gabriel waited.

Gabriel stood, laser-sharp focus on the men.  One was average height, a little taller than Gabriel, with a beard and a grumpy expression.  The other…Gabriel straightened.  _This_ was what, or rather, _who,_ had called to him.  This tall, lanky man, brown hair falling over green eyes and a mouth set with pain and determination.  He was cradling one arm as if he’d injured it.

Gabriel _knew_ this man. The feeling tugged at him, pulling on the memories that he had locked away, hidden deep within himself because they were too painful to keep near the surface, and Gabriel batted it away, angry.

He took a step closer, still hidden, and sent a questing tendril of thought towards the tall man’s soul.  He hissed silently at what he found.  It was ragged, frayed, shattered almost beyond recognition in places, yet pulsing bright with determination, will and a fierce loyalty that…a wisp of memory tickled Gabriel’s mind and he shook his head.  He couldn’t afford distractions, not in this place. But…he knew…

Dark shapes drifted out of the mist under the trees, resolving into a host of leviathan that stood almost shoulder-to-shoulder in front of the pair of humans in the middle of the clearing, grinning wide with wicked, too-sharp teeth.

The taller man drew a knife and put his shoulders against the shorter man’s, glaring at the force that waited silently for the command to attack.

“Well, thanks for trying, Sam,” the bearded man said.  “Appreciate the effort, in any case, even though we’re about to die bloody.”

 _Sam._ The name rang through Gabriel’s mind like a bell, a clarion call that doubled him over as he gasped in shock.  Images flooded him and he staggered back. A sleazy motel. Kali.  A pantheon of old gods gathered together and Gabriel in their midst, facing his brother.  Pain. Betrayal.  Grief, his and not-his, twining together as he fell, tumbling through dimensions to end…here. 

Gabriel had _died_ for the man currently facing his own death with teeth bared in a snarl, knife at the ready.

This was unacceptable.

He dropped his invisibility with the flick of a finger and drew his sword. There were twin gasps behind him but Gabriel didn’t turn to look.  He glared at the leader of the leviathan, a burly beast with muscles that bulged through his tattered shirt.

“ _This one is mine_ ,” Gabriel said, and his voice rang with power.

The leviathan shrank away and the leader roared at them, rallying them back to the fight.  Gabriel bounded forward, every nerve singing with the joy of battle, alive now in the way he only was in the middle of death.

 

Sam couldn’t believe it.  He was hallucinating again, surely, but instead of Lucifer, he was seeing… _Gabriel?_ Gabriel, slicing through leviathan, dealing killing blows with every flick of his wrist, dodging blows, black goo flying as he spun and whirled and slashed, every move lethal, no motion wasted.

But this wasn’t the cute, flirty janitor he’d met at the college, nor was it the angry, hurting, desperate angel who had trapped him and Dean in TV hell.

This was an _archangel,_ fierce and deadly and absolute, stripped to his core being, no room for error, for human frailties.  This was Gabriel as he must have been when he had first driven the leviathan into Purgatory, when he’d slaughtered the Nephilim, when he cast judgment against Sodom and Gomorrah for their sins.  Pure and bright, shining in the pale sunlight, he flowed from one fighting stance to another without a pause, wielding his weapon as an extension of his arm. Monsters died in droves and still Gabriel fought, and not a single creature slipped past him to attack Sam and Bobby.

The last leviathan slid to its knees and slumped over onto its side, coughing out a death rattle, and then Gabriel was turning to Sam, striding toward him with that same fierce look in his eyes.

Sam took a step back before he could stop himself.  The archangel was _terrifying;_ he could admit that to himself.  Gabriel’s eyes shone golden and feral through the mask of black, tarry blood that covered his face.  He stopped in front of Sam and reached out, gripping Sam’s jacket in one hand while with the other, he slashed a hole in the air.  Sheathing his sword, Gabriel took hold of Bobby with his free hand and tossed him through the gap.  Then he turned back to Sam, still holding his sleeve, those eyes still terrifyingly blank.

“Gabriel,” Sam said, swallowing hard around the fear that choked him.

Recognition stirred on Gabriel’s face and he shook his head hard, confusion flickering across his features.

“It’s me,” Sam tried again.  “It’s Sam. You know me.”

Gabriel’s mouth tightened and he picked Sam up with almost no effort, hurling him toward the opening in the air.

 _No._ Sam twisted in midair, arms flinging out and his hand latching onto Gabriel’s even as he was sucked through the hole and thrown out the other side, landing with bruising force in the middle of a cornfield.

Sam lay still for a moment, trying desperately to remember how to get air into his lungs. It took him a while to realize that the heavy weight on top of him might be contributing to that difficulty, and he rolled to the side, depositing Gabriel in the soft dirt next to him.   The angel’s eyes were closed, his face lax under the blood and dirt that covered it. 

Sam stood up, taking stock.  It was pitch-black and there was no one else around.  Bobby was nowhere to be seen.  At this point, all Sam could do was hope and pray that his soul had gone on to Heaven. There was nothing else he could do for the grumpy old hunter, and Sam had an unconscious archangel to tend to.

He dropped back to his knees and pulled his flannel shirt off, leaving him clad in only a thin t-shirt, his arms bare to the cool wind.  Sam ignored his pebbling skin and set to work cleaning Gabriel’s face and checking for injuries.  He peeled Gabriel’s filthy jacket off and lifted his arms, working the equally dirty, ragged shirt underneath off over his head.

Then he sucked in a startled breath.  The whole of Gabriel’s torso was covered in overlapping scars, old and new, faded with age and raw and livid. 

“Jesus, Gabe,” Sam breathed, his fingers tracing one of the older marks. “What _happened_ to you?”  He looked up at the angel’s face and found Gabriel’s eyes open, staring back at him.

Sam jerked his hand away as if burned, scrambling backward.  “I was…looking for injuries,” he stammered.

Gabriel sat up as if it hurt to do so, blinking down at himself.  That golden gaze came back up and locked onto Sam, and Sam swallowed hard, kneeling in the field with the corn towering tall around them both, feeling suddenly exposed in a way that had nothing to do with his clothing.

Gabriel rolled to his knees and somehow he was closer to Sam, close enough that Sam could reach out and touch him.  When had that happened?

The slight tensing of Gabriel’s muscles were Sam’s only warning before the angel pounced, bowling Sam over backward into the soft dirt, straddling his hips and pinning him down.  His expression was still blank, so unlike the trickster that Sam had known that he had to stifle a moment of panic.  He pushed experimentally on Gabriel’s thighs but the angel didn’t budge, cocking his head and staring at him.

Words then. Sam cleared his throat. “Gabriel.  Your name is Gabriel, and you’re an archangel.”

An expression of irritation flickered across Gabriel’s face and Sam felt like an idiot. So he already knew that much.

Sam took a deep breath and tried again.  “My name is Sam.  Sam Winchester. I’m…we’re…”  What _were_ they, exactly? They weren’t friends. ‘Allies’ was too…distant. “You fought Lucifer for me, for my brother and me, Gabriel.  You…you died for us.”

Gabriel didn’t move.  He might as well have been a statue, staring down at Sam, who was beginning to feel ridiculous. How was he supposed to get through to an angel that wouldn’t speak or show any signs of recognition?

An idea occurred to him and before he could dismiss it as stupid, Sam was sitting up, catching Gabriel’s mouth with his own, holding the angel’s shoulders to brace himself.  He licked at the seam of Gabriel’s lips, asking to be let in with gentle touches, their mouths sliding against each other. 

Gabriel was frozen, utterly still, and Sam’s abs were beginning to protest, but then Gabriel’s lips parted and suddenly he was kissing back, pressing Sam back against the ground and devouring his mouth with a wild, desperate urgency.

Sam let him, allowing Gabriel to take the lead, sliding his hands through the chestnut hair falling forward over the angel’s face and arching up against his mouth as Gabriel nipped his way down Sam’s throat, sucking almost painful marks into Sam’s skin as he went.

Sam was moaning, he realized distantly, but he didn’t care.  All that mattered was the angel pinning him to the ground, making his body and mind light up like fireworks as that clever mouth moved further down.

Gabriel grazed a nipple with his teeth through Sam’s shirt and Sam shuddered, hands tightening in Gabriel’s hair as his hips bucked upward.

Gabriel looked up and Sam met his gaze, panting hard.  The confusion in the angel’s eyes was beginning to fade, replaced by a growing awareness.

“Sam,” Gabriel whispered.

Sam grinned at him.  Lying there on the ground, exhausted and covered in dirt and blood, the stench of Hell still clinging to him, Sam had never been happier.

“Hey,” he managed.  “Less talking, more kissing.”

Gabriel’s mouth quirked upward and then he was devouring Sam’s mouth again, tongue dipping inside to slide against Sam’s even as his hands roamed over Sam’s torso.

Sam’s hands were just as busy, tugging Gabriel’s jeans open and dragging the zipper down and sliding around the back to slip under the waistband to cup Gabriel’s ass in both large hands.  Gabriel jerked, head falling forward with a moan, pressing his face into Sam’s throat.

Then he snapped his fingers and it was Sam’s turn to jerk as he toppled backward onto a featherbed, Gabriel still on top of him and busy with Sam’s neck again.

Sam looked around, startled.  The room was entirely white, marble floors, satin bedspread, and sheer curtains at the window.

Gabriel sucked a bruise into his collarbone and Sam made a startled noise. They were naked, he realized dimly through the haze of lust clogging his system, and _clean._ No trace of the filth of Purgatory or Hell remained. 

Then Gabriel was moving down Sam’s body again, laving the jut of Sam’s hipbone with his tongue until Sam was squirming underneath him. 

“Please,” Sam whispered.

Gabriel looked up, eyes gleaming.  “Please what?” he growled, and Sam just smiled at him, lost for words. Because that was _Gabriel_ smiling back at him, _his_ angel alive and alight with laughter, and Sam wanted to cry with relief and laugh for joy at the same time.

He settled for dragging Gabriel back up and kissing him thoroughly. Gabriel cooperated willingly, fingers gliding over Sam’s ribcage as he sprawled on top of the taller man, their erections sliding against each other, slippery with sweat and pre-come.

Sam groaned against Gabriel’s mouth.  He was already dangerously close to the edge, he knew, and he wasn’t ready to lose it just yet.

Gabriel solved his dilemma by pulling back, breaking the kiss to kneel between Sam’s spread legs, arching one brow in a wicked query.

Sam swallowed hard and nodded, unable to speak.  Gabriel snapped his fingers and a bottle of lube fell into his open hand. Sam snorted a laugh.

“Cheating _,_ ” he chided, and Gabriel grinned at him.

“ _Trickster,_ ” he retorted. Then one slippery finger was nudging at Sam’s entrance and Sam forgot his smart remark, gasping and grabbing at the covers as Gabriel slid inside up to the first knuckle.

Sam’s body fought the intrusion at first.  It had been so _long_ since he’d done this. But Gabriel was patient, moving in glacial increments until Sam’s muscles loosened and accepted his finger, sliding in and out so slowly.

Only then did he add another finger, pressing in as Sam shoved his fist into his mouth, biting down hard to muffle his groan.  Slowly, the burn and stretch faded, replaced by pleasure that sparked along his nerve endings and left his skin so sensitive that the drag of the satin sheets under him was almost agony.

Gabriel worked him over with inexorable patience, ignoring Sam’s writhing and gasped pleas until Sam was opened to his satisfaction.  Only then did he lift Sam’s legs and line himself up.

Sam nearly sobbed with relief.  _Finally._

He met Gabriel’s eyes.  There was a question in those golden depths.

“Gabe,” Sam managed, “If you don’t fuck me in the next five seconds, I will…” He couldn’t think of a suitable threat, but it didn’t matter. Gabriel drove in with one hard thrust and rational thought scattered.

Gabriel pounded into him with an almost frightening urgency, bending Sam almost in half, his cock jabbing Sam’s prostate with every thrust.

Sam cried out, clutching at Gabriel’s hands where they gripped his legs, his cock rubbing against his own belly and making him shake and quiver with each movement.

“Gonna…” he choked, muscles seizing, and then he was coming on a long, helpless wave of ecstasy, covering his stomach and ribs with sticky wetness. He was dimly aware of Gabriel stiffening above him, groaning Sam’s name as he came deep inside him, jerking and shuddering through his orgasm.

Eons later, Gabriel pulled out and collapsed on top of him, a boneless, slippery heap, chest heaving and skin filmed with a sheen of sweat.

Sam was too exhausted to do more than run his fingers along Gabriel’s sides, delighting in the solid feel of his angel beneath his hands.

Gabriel twitched and moaned a complaint into Sam’s throat.

“Ticklish?” Sam teased, and Gabriel lifted his head enough to glare at him before dropping it again.

“I missed you,” Sam whispered into Gabriel’s soft hair.

The only reply he got was a snuffled sigh as Gabriel fell asleep, arms tightening around him.

Sam smiled and followed him into the dark.


End file.
